Archive for September, 2006

Today’s Earworm – Sorry, Wendy, you got here too late, and I don’t know that one anyway – is “Eddystone Light.” It was triggered by mailing something to someone who lives on “Eddy St.” I haven’t even heard “Eddystone Light” in years, so I’m not sure why it decided to pop up today. But there it was! So I’m walking around singing it cheerfully, fake Cornish accent and all, aloud, and blushing whenever anyone catches me.

Today’s Outfit – yes, I’m once again describing an outfit. But it’s an exceptionally cute one, dangit! We got a free jeans day at work, which is nice. So I’m wearing a pair of bootcut faded Levis with a long dark brown tank top with sequins on it, and a dark blue jacket with dark brown sequins. Normally I’d wear it with brown high-heeled loafers, but we got to wear sneakers today (an exceedingly rare event at work), so I’m wearing my totally non-matching but totally comfortable dark blue and silver and white Reeboks.

Today’s Insult to Injury – I think I’m getting sick. Lemme tell ya, that just sucks all the way to last Tuesday. I got back from lunch with a scratchy throat and the “ahems” that don’t clear it out. I was gonna go spend the night with my adorable sister, leaving my equally adorable husband the freedom to play his guitar as loud as he wants to! I was gonna go to a movie!

Clover’s Injury to Injury to Insult to Injury – Her youngest son, Tate, broke his arm. I say no more. Just go visit her blog (link’s on the right) if you feel like it, and give her some love. She needs it. I was planning to go by there this weekend, but don’t dare, if it’s true that I’m getting sick–she does NOT need my germs on top of everything else going on in her household!

Two new words I learned today – qwief, courtesy of Plimco, and emetephobia, courtesy of Nicole. I didn’t know there were words for either of those things. I have qwieffed before, and never knew what it was called! And I have emetephobia, and didn’t know that’s what it’s called! And now I do!

Two new poems I found this week, courtesy of Chicory- “String Theory Sutra” by Brenda Hillman (I found this myself, while trying to puzzle out a riddle Chicory posed), and “Why I Am Not a Painter” by Frank O’Hara (the real answer to the riddle Chicory posed). Both are excellent poems. If you like poetry, go read ’em. You’ll like ’em.

People I Love – Joe and Liz and Mom and Dad and Carol and Christa and Charles and Melissa and Sarah and Dale and Chicory and Plimco and Sam Wright and Wendy and Nicole (and everybody else)

Today’s Earworm – Sorry, Wendy, you got here too late, and I don’t know that one anyway – is “Eddystone Light.” It was triggered by mailing something to someone who lives on “Eddy St.” I haven’t even heard “Eddystone Light” in years, so I’m not sure why it decided to pop up today. But there it was! So I’m walking around singing it cheerfully, fake Cornish accent and all, aloud, and blushing whenever anyone catches me.

Today’s Outfit – yes, I’m once again describing an outfit. But it’s an exceptionally cute one, dangit! We got a free jeans day at work, which is nice. So I’m wearing a pair of bootcut faded Levis with a long dark brown tank top with sequins on it, and a dark blue jacket with dark brown sequins. Normally I’d wear it with brown high-heeled loafers, but we got to wear sneakers today (an exceedingly rare event at work), so I’m wearing my totally non-matching but totally comfortable dark blue and silver and white Reeboks.

Today’s Insult to Injury – I think I’m getting sick. Lemme tell ya, that just sucks all the way to last Tuesday. I got back from lunch with a scratchy throat and the “ahems” that don’t clear it out. I was gonna go spend the night with my adorable sister, leaving my equally adorable husband the freedom to play his guitar as loud as he wants to! I was gonna go to a movie!

Clover’s Injury to Injury to Insult to Injury – Her youngest son, T, broke his arm. I say no more. Just go visit her blog (link’s on the right) if you feel like it, and give her some love. She needs it. I was planning to go by there this weekend, but don’t dare, if it’s true that I’m getting sick–she does NOT need my germs on top of everything else going on in her household!

Two new words I learned today – qwief, courtesy of Plimco, and emetephobia, courtesy of Nicole. I didn’t know there were words for either of those things. I have qwieffed before, and never knew what it was called! And I have emetephobia, and didn’t know that’s what it’s called! And now I do!

Two new poems I found this week, courtesy of Chicory – “String Theory Sutra” by Brenda Hillman (I found this myself, while trying to puzzle out a riddle Chicory posed), and “Why I Am Not a Painter” by Frank O’Hara (the real answer to the riddle Chicory posed). Both are excellent poems. If you like poetry, go read ’em. You’ll like ’em.

People I Love – Joe and Liz and Mom and Dad and Carol and Christa and Charles and Melissa and Sarah and Dale and Chicory and Plimco and Sam Wright and Wendy and Nicole (and everybody else)

Toni was younger than Helga and I were. She was also a little—okay, a lot—peculiar. Everyone at church talked about how sweet Toni was. Helga and I just exchanged glances; occasionally one of us would say darkly that the speaker didn’t know everything.

Toni went home one weekend. She was going to join the Air Force or the Army or the Border Patrol or something like that. I don’t remember now. It’s been too long, and I’ve tried to forget all of this. Anyway, one of the requirements was that she had to have a physical, so she went to her family doctor.

Early Sunday morning I heard a persistent knocking on the front door. I looked at my clock. 4 a.m. Who on earth was at the door at 4 a.m.? I got up and met Helga at my bedroom door. She’d heard the knocking, too. We went to the door and cautiously looked through the peephole. It was Toni. Why was she knocking, when she had a key? We let her in.

After about two minutes of conversation, it was obvious that something was really wrong, something way beyond Toni’s normal peculiarity. Helga went to the phone to call Toni’s family while I kept Toni in conversation.

She looked at me eerily. “I have two visions.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I look at you like this,” she said, looking at me straight on, “I see you. But when I look at you like this,” she said significantly, “I see your color.”

“Okay. So what color am I?”

“You’re white. White is good.”

Helga came in and gave me the high sign to join her in the kitchen.

“Toni, I’ll be right back, okay?”

“She’s red. Red is evil.” Toni glared at Helga, and then stared at the wall.

_______

I joined Helga in the kitchen. “What is going on? She is—“

“Schizophrenic.”

I stared at Helga. “What?”

“Her family has been frantic. They didn’t know where she was. When she had her mental health assessment, the doctor diagnosed her with schizophrenia and gave her some prescriptions. She wouldn’t take them because she said it was against the Word of Wisdom, but she seemed pretty calm. Then she disappeared sometime during the night, and they’ve been searching everywhere.”

“Oh, my gosh. We can’t deal with this by ourselves. What do we do?”

“I’ll call Ted and Mark.” They were our home teachers.

“Good call. I’ll keep Toni occupied until they get here.”

_______

I went back into the living room and resumed my conversation with Toni. I don’t remember now much of what she said. Helga tried to come into the room, but every time she did, Toni went berserk. She kept insisting Helga was evil, and wouldn’t allow Helga to come anywhere near her. When Ted and Mark got there, Toni calmed down. They gave her a blessing, and stayed at our house until it was time to leave for church.

That morning at church Toni’s visiting teachers, two remarkably placid girls, kept her out of mine and Helga’s hair so that we could meet with a member of the Stake High Council who also happened to be a psychiatrist. He had already spoken with Toni’s family and with Toni. He told us that Toni was a paranoid schizophrenic, and was extremely delusional. He asked if we would be able to handle her for that day and night, and other arrangements would be made for her the next day. Helga and I were extremely reluctant to do so, but finally agreed.

Ted and Mark, as well as Sheila and Amber (Toni’s visiting teachers), all came back to the house with us after church. Toni got a bee in her bonnet about refusing to go into the house because the house was full of devils, but she was agreeable about having a picnic on the front lawn. So Helga and I stayed in the house preparing a meal, while the guys and Sheila and Amber stayed outside with Toni. As it grew dark, Toni was still refusing to go into the house, and we were all getting worried about what to do overnight.

Finally Toni said that if we would let her go with Sheila and Amber, she would be good, go to bed, and stay at their house all night. After careful consideration, we agreed, first warning Sheila and Amber (in private) what they were in for. They didn’t quite believe us, because other than Toni’s refusal to go into the house, they hadn’t seen any of her odd behavior. So off they went, and Helga and I just collapsed with exhaustion.

_______

At 1 a.m., the phone rang. Sheila was in hysterics. Toni had disappeared, and they couldn’t find her. Amber had called the police and was out searching. Mark and Ted, as well as the other elders in the ward, had been called and were searching. Helga and I got up and got dressed again.

We eventually found Toni crouching outside by the central air conditioning unit. She wouldn’t come into the house. Helga called the police to tell them that she was there. They came; the psychiatrist from the stake came; and some other people were there. We were asked once again if we would keep her for the rest of the night, but this time we said no. We had been through enough already, and Toni had already proven herself more than capable at getting away from the people who were attempting to care for her. I honestly don’t remember who took her at that point, but I do know that she was safely taken to a mental health facility the next day.

_______

By this time it was 4 or 5 a.m. I already knew there was no way on earth I was going to be able to go to work, and I also knew that I didn’t want to spend another moment in that house. My friend Carly came and picked me up so that I could spend the day in her apartment. It had been 24 hours since Toni first started knocking on our door. That 24 hours seemed like 24 years, a long, slow kind of bad.

NOTE: This one is autobiographical. This is a true experience, much abridged in details, although not in time frame. I’ve changed the names. Oh, and “Helga” was SO not evil!! The last I heard about “Toni” she was still refusing to take meds on the grounds that it was against the Word of Wisdom, was roaming the streets of the city, converting other mentally ill people to the church, and spawning more mentally ill children. If this sounds heartless, it absolutely is not intended to be so. There are some problems for which there don’t seem to be any solutions. And one more note–it is NOT against the Word of Wisdom for people to take medication that has been prescribed for them. Whatever kooky wack job things you hear about Mormons, that’s definitely not a true one, okay? Trust me on this one.

Before I say what I came here to say, I have to say this first. I am one of those really annoying people who’s always spouting off quotations from movies/plays/books/songs, etc. And one of my favorite quotations from “The Music Man” is when the Mayor’s wife, Mrs. Shin, is being asked about something. She responds, “I am reticent. Oh, yes, I am reticent.”

I say that a lot. Don’t believe me? Ask my sister. I usually use that quotation when I’m indicating cautious optimism, and don’t want to commit myself wholly to something, don’t want to say too much. Right, Liz?

Anyway, I am reticent (see, cautiously optimistic) about the fact that I think that the Topamax may be going to work. Remember, it’s September 26th, and I’ve had a headache since early July. I’ve taken a ton of different prescription medicines in an effort to either eradicate the headache or dull the pain, none of which have worked and some of which have given me itchy rashes. Hence the reticence. However, today was the 8th day of the Topamax regime, and the 1st day where I took a pill in the morning in addition to the one at bedtime. And I was a little loopy this morning, and I do still have the headache. But it’s not too bad. If I had to go home and wash dishes, I could. I mean, I have no intention whatsoever of doing so, but I could if I had to or if I wanted to.

The neurologist said that most people start seeing a small bit of improvement (like, they’ll notice an hour where they don’t have a headache) in the second or third week. I’m now in the second week, and I’m seeing improvement, even though I haven’t gotten to the hour without the headache.

So I am reticent. Oh, yes. I am reticent.

Not really, since I just wrote for five minutes about it. But you get the picture, right?

Okay. Shutting up now. Have to meet for half an hour with a new manager to explain reports and queries that I prepare. Funness. Not.

Before I say what I came here to say, I have to say this first. I am one of those really annoying people who’s always spouting off quotations from movies/plays/books/songs, etc. And one of my favorite quotations from “The Music Man” is when the Mayor’s wife, Mrs. Shin, is being asked about something. She responds, “I am reticent. Oh, yes, I am reticent.”

I say that a lot. Don’t believe me? Ask my sister. I usually use that quotation when I’m indicating cautious optimism, and don’t want to commit myself wholly to something, don’t want to say too much. Right, Liz?

Anyway, I am reticent (see, cautiously optimistic) about the fact that I think that the Topamax may be going to work. Remember, it’s September 26th, and I’ve had a headache since early July. I’ve taken a ton of different prescription medicines in an effort to either eradicate the headache or dull the pain, none of which have worked and some of which have given me itchy rashes. Hence the reticence. However, today was the 8th day of the Topamax regime, and the 1st day where I took a pill in the morning in addition to the one at bedtime. And I was a little loopy this morning, and I do still have the headache. But it’s not too bad. If I had to go home and wash dishes, I could. I mean, I have no intention whatsoever of doing so, but I could if I had to or if I wanted to.

The neurologist said that most people start seeing a small bit of improvement (like, they’ll notice an hour where they don’t have a headache) in the second or third week. I’m now in the second week, and I’m seeing improvement, even though I haven’t gotten to the hour without the headache.

So I am reticent. Oh, yes. I am reticent.

Not really, since I just wrote for five minutes about it. But you get the picture, right?

Okay. Shutting up now. Have to meet for half an hour with a new manager to explain reports and queries that I prepare. Funness. Not.

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Feel free to email me at chauceriangirl(at) gmail (dot) com, if you'd like to say something but don't feel like leaving a comment on the blog.

"You can get sympathy or you can get better, but you can't get both. You can be in your comfort zone or you can have growth, but you can't have both. You can be interested or you can be sold-out committed, but you can't entertain both. You can have excuses or have results, but you can't do both. Choose the path that develops your visceral fortitude." ---Mario Cortes

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